


Survival

by Star_Noble



Series: Short Stories [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampires Are Known, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 00:58:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7597111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Noble/pseuds/Star_Noble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I was just checking to see if you're alright." He pauses, giving me a once over and I force myself to ignore the urge to cover myself more. "You are alright. Yes?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Survival

The bell rang ten minutes ago and everyone sped away like a stamping herd of buffalo. But what am I doing you ask? Sitting in my metalwork class and listening to the teacher ramble on. I like Mrs. Hays -as much as I care to like anyone outside of my important people. But if she keeps me here any longer to listen to her speech about wasting potential I'm going to scream.

 

Fucking thanks woman. Making me feel like that circus act that's not quite good but could be if people just stared at it long enough. She's still talking, leaning out of her chair a little and trying to convey her message. As if I don't already understand. I'm about ready to give up and do something drastic, when she sighs letting me leave.

 

I do, all speedy like.

 

Mrs. Hays may have good intentions, as a teacher I guess she has to, but she can't see fucking everything. I'm fine where I am, where I decided to be. I don't need to do better to show her that I'm worth it. Everyone who needs to know already does.

 

Maybe it's because I'm still a teenager -embarrassing hormones and everything. Maybe how I'm not even out of high school and way to shitting bored already. School is something I do because it's expected. Annoying as all fuck, and twice and dull.

 

It could well be my language or my explosive temper. I've tried toning it down, don't think for a second I haven't. It's just, anger is just something that simmers in the back of my mind. People seem to think that a switch flips in my brain and BAM angry. But that's not even fucking close. It's always there, just tempting me to give in, how easy it would be. So there, fuck heads. I do tone it down. I fucking resist but sometimes it just...slips out anyway.

 

It's not fun for them or me.

 

This anger though, that's pooling in my skull and dripping down my heart -poetic huh HA- isn't like that. It's a defeated kind of anger, something I don't know what to do with and that just pisses me off more. A never ending cycle, fuck my life.

 

The halls are empty, the children shaped buffalo already home or headed there. All that's left are a few stragglers. That doesn't surprise me, going by the time on the clock mounted in the hall. It's fucking later than I thought. With another curse I speed up, ready to get the fuck out of here and maybe bitch a little bit.

 

So yeah, rushing, not my best plan. I'm not the most graceful swan in the park anyway but heels and anger and rushing are never a good combination. It's not helped by the fucking asshole who decided to sprawl on the top steps once I open the door.

 

I only have a second to mentally cuss the stupid fucker out before I go tumbling towards the ground. Lovely. I always wanted to know how it felt to kiss the concrete when I'm flailing about. Just before I can -pity, Ha- I feel a hand grab my elbow, pulling me back and upright. Until I twist my own ankle and almost fall before grabbing the railing.

 

A male laughs sounds in front of me -unless it's a deep voiced woman, not judging. I straighten out to look up and glare. He's tall is my first thought -not as tall as my sister, but few are. Black hair that's tied into a ponytail -why does that look familiar?- and still falls around his hips. Also damn, the prettiest purple eyes I've ever seen. Holy crap hormones, breath a little bit.

 

Fingers wrap around my wrist and I give an impressive angry shriek, throwing him off with a full body shake. "What the fuck are you touching me for you fuck head."

 

He raises an eyebrow -how do people do that?- and gives this stupid, half smile. "I was just checking to see if you're alright." He pauses, giving me a once over and I force myself to ignore the urge to cover myself more. "You are alright. Yes?"

 

"I'm fine. No thanks to you and your fucking legs." I flip my hair, carding my hands through the lose bangs around my eyes. "Keep your spider legs to yourself next time."

 

He has the audacity to laugh, fucking laugh, like it's funny he almost killed me. Okay, maybe I'd have broken my nose or something but same difference- the fucking jerk. I wish that broke whatever hormonal hold his looks have but that laugh of his doesn't help.

 

"I'll be sure to remember that. Thank you." I glare at his stupid half smirk thing. It's not as good as my sisters, but she's had a good six years to prefect hers. Mine will be perfect soon. He doesn't seem to care though, just chuckling at me. Fuck him.

 

"It's a school idiot." I start moving down the stairs, a lot slower this time. It has nothing to do with talking to him and everything to do with walking backwards down stairs. Dangerous shit there. "You know, public domain and shit. Meaning it's not just yours to lord over. Try to fucking remember that." I turn, planning and making my way to find spit fuck when someone touches my elbow again. I startle, jumping in the air and spinning around to punch him in the shoulder. He doesn't even twitch.

 

"Can I know who almost died due to my 'spider' legs?" His question sounds innocent but the smirk says other things. I pull myself out of his grip, shaking my arms.

 

"No." I state, spinning back to the parking lot and strolling away. Fucking jerk, demanding things like that.

 

"How was school?" I pull up short to look at Raleigh, feeling some of the tension leave. Everything's always better around family. No joke I grunt at him. We go to the same school. He should know how it is.

 

"Coffee on the way home?" I offer, already moving. Raleigh nods, his silver hair moving around in the ponytail he throws it up in.

 

Best. Day. Ever.

 

 

 

It's late into winter and my breath frosts white as I exhale and it's way to damn early to be fucking walking. Most days I steal a ride with spit fuck because I don't have my license yet. Something about needing to learn road rage or some such. I don't have road rage, I just vocalize my displeasure, okay.

 

But whatever, he can't today because therapy. Fuck that. He doesn't need some shrink getting all cozy in his skull, knocking up all his darkest secrets. It's just, that's a condition for us staying with our sister instead of carted off to some foster home. So I'll deal with him being gone, for a day. If I have to.

 

All this means is that I have a half mile walk, not far but I'm freezing my giblets off. I like my giblets, sue me.

 

I cut across the road, to the park that is right in front of the school. It's not much warmer there, the trees are still missing there leaves. Reaching towards the sky and looking all naked. Gross, just thought of tree sex.

 

Anyway. I pull my red tartan jacket tighter around me and speed up a little, unwilling to stay longer in the cold than I have to. That's when I see him, fuck head from a few days ago. It doesn't matter, he can do whatever he wants with his fucking life. I'm not his mother or grace forbid his girlfriend.

 

He's sitting at one of the park tables, book in front of him and chilled coffee on the table. I can only tell that much because it's not steaming, unless he's been out so long it chilled itself. Nasty.

 

He's also not wearing anything for the weather. Even I made some minor fashion changes for the white fluff around us. Not that I care much about the fashion stuff but sis keeps insisting. Out of some misplaced guilt over our lot in life I guess. Oh yeah, fuck head.

 

I don't care -fuck you, hormones. But even I'm not so much of a heartless shrew -no matter what you say spit fuck- to leave him there. So I take decide to take a few minutes off my quest to get to school with most of the feelings in my limbs to check on him. He better be fucking grateful, the tart.

 

"What the shit are you thinking, wearing that in this weather fuck head?" Okay, so I could maybe started the conversation on a less negative point but I'm freezing. Not even the winter tights are helping, fuck my legs are cold.

 

His eyes flicker up from his book, surprise ripple on his face before he replaces it with that stupid ass smirk. That does not do anything to my knees, shut the fuck up right now. I have maybe two seconds to read the look in his eyes as he goes into a full blown smile, one fake as fuck and twice as brittle. Before he can so much as chuckle I shove the piece of toast dangling in my fingers into his mouth.

 

Hey, that surprises me almost as much as it surprises him. "So, are you coming to school or were you just being a creepy creeper the other day?" I demand.

 

He takes his time to stand. Stretching long arms over his head and taking the toast between his own fingers to smile at me. I shouldn't like that smile -I don't even know this idiot- but it still does horrible things to my knees. "I'll walk with you." His smile remains -only false around the edges- and when he starts to walk I have to rush to catch up. His gait is longer than mine -screw him for being taller I'm not short- but he's nice enough to slow down to let me catch up.

 

 

 

 

A week passes in a bit of a blur. Spit fuck's assigned a different therapist. Something about giving his last a tic in her eye she can't get rid of. He almost goes through as many as I do -crocodile tears are streaming down my face, so proud. Ha. Today starts like the others. Sis is up first, showered and dressed before I even get out of bed. Spit fuck is last, but he's quicker to get ready than I am. Already sitting at the dining table by the time I stumble down the stairs.

 

I forwent heels today, donning my favorite combat type boots. Gray sweater and skirt paired with white stockings. Gray is color right? Sis keeps telling me I should bring some color into my wardrobe. I'm not the only on who goes gray today because spit fuck has this nice, shiny gray suit with a white shirt and tie. It looks good. I won't tell him that, hell no, but it does.

 

Sis is sitting at the table, the corner closest to the door, with an untouched plate of pancakes in front of her. Man, she doesn't eat only when she's ready to get all personal. Yikes. I cannot handle personal yet. I haven't had my first cup of coffee today.

 

She looks put together, blue button down and dark jeans. Her heels are modest and even her hair's put up in a nice bun. It's strange to see Sis looking like an actual person and not, you know, Sis.

 

I suck down my first cup, ignoring the burn as it goes down and pull a plate of pancakes towards me. They're awesome, the best food on this planet. Pancakes. Sis clears her throat, setting down her cup of tea. Gross. Tea is horrible, and evil.

 

"I," She clears her throat and I risk a glance to spit fuck, who just shrugs in response. Useless. "I got a call from Child Services yesterday."

 

"The fuck for?" I question, pausing in my liberal application of maple syrup. "Didn't they come by a few months ago?"

 

"It is a yearly thing correct?" Spit fuck quizzes, looking ambiguous about the answer. That's about where his interest always falls.

 

"They're worried about how many therapists you've both been through. If it were up to me I wouldn't have you two deal with something so... dull. But I would rather have you deal with minor boredom than not be there for you."

 

"You want us to cut down on the verbal bashing?" I ask her horrified. She better not be thinking that, oh grace no. Just no, what will I fill my time with then? Talking? Bleh.

 

"If you could. We only have another year of this."

 

"Fine, whatever." I sigh, that is going to suck. "Gotta head out." I pick up my bag, snickering when it clips spit fuck. Serves him right for not saying anything.

 

"Have a good day." Sis nods to both of us and I smile, waving on the way out. Spit fuck makes his way out next to me, staying silent for most of the drive to school. Not sure what's got his brain in a tizzy but he better have it sorted before school is out.

 

"See you after class." I punch him in the arm and he scowls at me. The motion making way for a smile before we both disappear into the zoo that people claim is useful for us. Spit fuck has his advanced class's and I have track before first period. Yay.

 

It's third period before I can finally just sit down. Going from Track to Gym to Health where the teacher tried to show how about the birds and the bees. Which somehow devolved into a bird finding expedition.

 

The class is Parahuman History, which is just a more polite way to say supernatural history. But that word's taboo or something for most people. It's taught by Mr. Stanley, one of those annoying guys that must have been pretty well liked his whole life. He seems to think everyone's supposed to like him here. He insists on labeling himself Stan, or Dr. Stan -because he got a PHD in Para's way back when. It's less annoying than if, say, a hive of wasps stings your insides but that's not saying much is it.

 

Anyway we've been going over the history of the 5 great Vampire clans. In any other class it might be pretty interesting but Mr. Stanley makes it sound dull. He pairs us up in groups of 5 today. That number seems to be a theme with him, with each group researching a different clan. Joy.

 

For pity's sake. I'm a little surprised he thought to do the groups at random. Instead of just letting the students flail around for partners. I look up to where my group's supposed to be at and scowl without meaning to. Damn, I didn't even notice he was in this class. How did I not notice.

 

With a put upon sigh I stand up. Walking to the table with all the dignity of a girl who tripped on her bag strap when she started to walk. As in no dignity at all thanks. "I'm not carrying your weight." I sneer, slamming my bag into my lap as I go digging for something to write with. Did spit fuck steal my pens again? The asshole.

 

"Would I ask that of you?" His voice is harsher and far more appealing than I'd like. Annoying. When I glance up at him from my curls I notice him tipping his head. Black hair falling everywhere and grace help whoever he lives with because he must shed. I scowl at him when I notice the smirk playing around his features.

 

"How the fuck should I know you fluffy wanker?" Okay, not my best insult. But he does look fluffy and kind of adorable the way his whole face pulls down, like he's pouting. Oh fucking grace, give me strength.

 

The idiot with the short, blond hair that makes his face look like a chubby puppy snorts. Looking way to pleased with the insult. I turn my scowl to him, jabbing his stupid ass feet with my boot. To say the resulting curses is satisfying is an understatement.

 

Fuck head smiles, looking pleased with himself. His eyes crinkle in the corners, making him look... not older, less hollow I suppose. It's a good look, good enough my stomach does little flips. Could you shut off for five seconds hormones, be serious for once. It's serious business here.

 

With that thought I shake myself, sending ginger curls flying. "So," I huff, pushing the stray curls from my eyes with force. "What should I call you? Or would you rather just be fuck head?" I sneer, sending a lazy twirl of my new pen in the idiots direction.

 

"The hell is your problem girl?" The yet silent partner, lanky dark hair covering his eyes, demands. He looks peeved. The idiot hasn't stopped smiling, so I didn't offend his delicate sensibilities. Maybe just this guy's. "You don't have to be so rude."

 

"Oh" I raise an eyebrow at them, doing a passable job at it before snorting a laugh. "Don't like my charming personality? Go cry to the teacher." With that out of the way I grab my notebook, opening to a random blank page. I could be more organized. But why? I don't care.

 

"Well fuck head?" He jerks back, blinking at me with lashes way to long. How does he get them like that? Oh the envy. His hold body leans back, tipping back his head to smile at me from an angle that's got to hurt.

 

"Faust. Faust Amunet." I tense up before I can stop myself. Holy damn, you have got to be kidding me. "No dice sweetheart." He replies to words I didn't know I spoke out loud. Damn, fuck, damn.

 

"I didn't think... I mean... What you did, they're still reeling over it." Great Nadia don't make sense, that's good.

 

"Barry." Blond pipes up quick like, eyes looking between us without understanding. A small "Hayden" from the dark haired partners follows. Popping whatever tension was starting in the air and I sneer at the both of them.

 

"Great, I don't care." I'll forget those two by the time this project's done. "Alright Faust, start us off them expert."

 

 

 

Faust invites himself on my path home -not that I need help. I'm a capable adult, almost adult. He's walking in silence, strides short, while I glance at him. Am I allowed to ask, is that rude? Do I care? Not normally but that shit's kind of horrible and I know a little bit about not wanting to talk. So best to stay silence I guess.

 

"So," I start, unable to help myself. Damn my curiosity of the weirdest shit. He pauses, turning to regard me for a second before completely stopping. There's a bench not far from us, which is were I go. Fuck if I'm going to stand longer than I have to. Thank you. "Are you a vampire?"

 

I can already tell he's debating lying to my face and disappearing. He doesn't, surprise and even answers. "Yes." It's short and tense but an answer. I kind of want to laugh and cry. Maybe hide under my sister's skirts. Even though she's not wearing skirts today so that might be a little hard to do.

 

"Ah." I hum out, not sure if I want to ask or if he'll even answer. Not my place. Honest. Not my place at all. "You go to school often."

 

"No." He honest to grace rolls his eyes, heaving the heaviest sigh I've heard. "Believe what you will but this is my age group."

 

"Really? You must have been young then, when it happened." He raises one eyebrow at me, laughing almost silently.

 

"You mean when I killed my King? Yes, I suppose I was."

 

Well at least it's out there. "Do you want to go somewhere with me?" Shit why did I just blurt that out. "That makes me sound like I get off on that kind of stuff. I don't. It's just... you look nice." Oh great going Nadia. Way to be materialistic.

 

"I look nice?" He laughs, not sounding to upset with that. "I might, however I don't even know your name."

 

"Nadia. Nadia Kross." I reach out, to shake hands and he chuckles but obliges. "Wanna have dinner sometime?"

 

"I'd be delighted Miss. Kross. You should now though, I'm not a cheap date." Surprised laughter spills out of me and he grins. So okay, not so horrible. Maybe.

**Author's Note:**

> [Art](http://www.polyvore.com/survival/set?id=191882440)


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